


This is Home

by ghoulboys



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-16 01:47:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16944687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoulboys/pseuds/ghoulboys
Summary: Rhys feels a void every once in a while, and is sure that it'll never be filled. The desperate beating of hearts as two lovers cling to one another and beg for them to stay committed to them, and only them? Love is for suckers, and Christmas is definitely not the season to find love in. And he definitely isn't falling for the man who seems to be around every single corner Rhys walks around — and itdefinitelyisn't happening when the man becomes his boss and goes out of his way to make sure Rhys sees as much of him as possible.And itdefinitelyisn't happening when Rhys begins to consider him family.They barely know each other, for crying out loud. How could Rhys be in love with someone he barely knows?





	This is Home

**Author's Note:**

> My fic for C0njiDraws in the Borderlands Gift Exchange! I wrote a whole lot because uh... why not, I guess? Happy holidays everyone!

Rhys has never been fond of this kind of weather, or this time of month in general. Though his family seemed to be all too excited for it, it was something that only made Rhys' reasoning for it more and more valid as the days went on. He couldn't begin to describe the vexation coursing through him once the first snowfall of the winter months dared to occur, white snowflakes slowly drifting into the street and eventually forming a single layer of snow. It was just enough to make Rhys pull his lips back in an annoyed frown.

Frost would even dare to form on every corner of the window, slowly creeping into the center as the weather outside got heavier with every passing hour. He was supposed to be at Starbucks twenty minutes ago, but Rhys couldn't find the energy to pull on his boots and get out the door. The snow weather practically taunted him from outside, and every flake that fell onto the window was like an insult being spat at him.

He scowls, for how could anyone enjoy this kind of weather? It only created more bad than good.

His phone begins to chime with messages, his friends asking him where's hes gone and if he's ditching. He doesn't answer, instead tugging on his puffy black jacket and winter boots, sliding on the fake fur-lined hood and grabbing his wallet on his way out the door. He makes sure to lock it before leaving, exiting his apartment and beginning down the street.

Though the taunting never seems to stop, with every snowflake that falls onto his eyelashes making him twitch in annoyance and every _crunch_ from the snow beneath his foot making his breathing a little more rugged. Thankfully, the walk to Starbucks is quick, and his friends are still waiting by the time he walks through the door. Warm air holds him close and Rhys wants to beg for it to never leave again.

"Rhys! We thought you were gonna bail on us, bro." Vaughn's quick to raise a hand, calling him over, and Rhys pulls himself from the entrance and towards where his friends are seated. He pulls out the chair and sits, sliding off his hood as Vaughn continues, "We're glad you could make it, dude."

"I was contemplating bailing. Not the... Not the best weather to walk in."

"Oh, come on, Rhys. You can't seriously still be hating winter." Yvette scoffs, sitting across from Vaughn. "You gotta admit, it's _pretty_. Look at it—"

"I've seen more than enough of that, thanks." Rhys snarks, making Yvette roll her eyes.

"Okay, fine, but you still owe me a coffee."

Rhys smirks at that.

"I don't owe you _jack shit_ ," He states confidently, leaning into the back of the chair, "And you know that."

Thus, a conversation between all of them erupt. Though Rhys does excuse himself within a few minutes once he spots that the once ten person line has turned into two people, and he slips into a free spot.

He glances over at his friends, and raises his hand when Vaughn's eyes catch his.

Vaughn grins back at him.

Rhys turns his attention back to the man in front of him, in the middle of ordering. The grey overcoat he wore could hardly keep him warm, Rhys thought as he scanned the back of the man's body up and down.

" _And..._ how about a blueberry muffin with that, sweetheart?"

Seriously, hitting on the barista? Rhys meant to scoff quietly, but it certainly comes out louder than expected. The man turns to look at Rhys, who almost immediately shrinks back. His mismatched brown eyes stare directly into the mismatched blue and green ones.

The side of the man's mouth twitches upwards, to Rhys' surprise.

"And how about you put whatever this kiddo wants on my tab, hm?"

Rhys sputters at that, but before he can properly ask why, the man places a hand on his shoulder and brings him to face the barista.

"Tell the nice lady what you'd like, kiddo."

Rhys slowly moves his eyes between the man and the barista, unsure if the man is serious or not. What kind of joke is this?

"C'mon, pumpkin. We don't got all friggin' day now, do we?"

He hears a cough from behind the counter and smiles upon seeing the barista. Sasha — a friend of his. Though not exactly a regular, Rhys would stop by every once in a while and Sasha would often be working. He even asked her out on a date once. It never worked out, but they remained friends, and Sasha moved on to date a guy named August.

It never seemed awkward. The friendship survived.

Despite the impatient cough, she holds an amused smirk on her lips that makes Rhys snap back into reality, and he finally manages to speak. "One — Ah... Just a french vanilla, with extra sugar and syrup, please."

She stares expectantly. Rhys realizes the man's hand has been removed from his shoulder, and he quickly speaks up, "That's it."

“And what’s your name, sweetheart?”

Rhys stares at the man in front of him, lips pressing together in a tight line as soon as the words leave his mouth.

“Sheesh — I buy the kid and drink and you’d think I killed his parents.”

Rhys can’t help it when he smiles at that, though he fights to keep it away. The man, who’s name Rhys realizes he hasn’t gotten yet, smirks.

“There we go. You know what? Just write down ‘legs’ on his.”

Sasha smirks and rolls her eyes. “Legs, seriously? Not even close to his actual name, Jack.”

Jack.

"You know each other?" Jack questions immediately, and Rhys looks between them.

"I mean, yeah — I come here sometimes. But I do... I do have long legs, Sash."

“Aha! See, there we go, he agrees with me. Knew you’d like it, cupcake.” The man, Jack, laughs as he’s handing Sasha a handful of money.

Sasha counts it, then sighs and shakes her head.

“I told you, tips go in the jar.” She says, pointing a finger at the tip jar on the counter. Jack scoffs.

“Yeah, and where does that go at the end of the night, kiddo? ‘Cause I doubt it’s going into your pockets. With how much goes in there everyday, you could’ve saved up for a car by now.”

Sasha opens her mouth to retort, but Jack closes her hand around the cash.

“Yeah, no. I see you taking the bus, kiddo.”

She slowly pockets the tip and puts the rest in the register. “Thank you, Jack.”

It seems as though Jack momentarily forgets Rhys is there, but grins when he turns around and the man is still standing there. Almost dumbly, Rhys thinks, just staring at Jack as if he’s seen a God.

“Kid, I know I’m good looking but close your mouth. You’re starting to drool.”

Rhys clamps his mouth shut and frowns. “I... I wasn’t drooling. Your name is Jack?”

“I prefer handsome.”

Jack begins to lead Rhys away, though he doesn’t realize until he’s feet away from the barista.

"We aren't gonna wait for our drinks?" He questions, turning to look up at Jack.

“I think if I keep you for too long, your friends will have my head.” Jack mumbles as they get closer, pulling his hand off Rhys’ shoulder when Vaughn raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll bring your drink to ya, cupcake. Don’t even worry about it.”

“I — yeah. Okay. Thank you, uh... Jack.” Rhys sits down, almost hesitantly.

“That’s Handsome to you.” Jack winks, and when Yvette is about to ask what’s happening Jack is saved by his phone. He takes it out and looks at the screen, eyebrows furrowing and lips parting slightly to mouth the name on the screen.

“I have to take this.”

Rhys watches as he steps away, answering the phone call and walking towards the barista as he begins to speak.

“So... What was that, exactly?” Yvette asks.

Rhys looks at his two friends, who are waiting patiently for Rhys to explain.

“I’d tell you if I knew. He bought me coffee.”

Vaughn leans back. “And overpaid. You interested?”

Rhys would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little intrigued.

“Maybe.” He taps his fingers on the table.

“You snatch him up before I do.” Yvette grins, and Rhys shoots her a look.

“How do you know he isn’t gay? He hit on me, not you.” He points out.

“He could be bisexual.” Vaughn speaks up, hands going around his drink. Rhys hums in consideration but doesn’t answer immediately.

“I guess we’ll just have to see.”

When two drinks are slid onto the pick-up counter, Rhys is quick to stand but Jack is faster. He’s shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket and sails by the coffees to pick them up. Rhys is frozen as Jack walks back to him.

He holds the tray of coffee in one hand and the bag that contains his muffin in his other, grinning upon seeing Rhys standing there.

“Here you go, legs.” He says, offering the tray. Rhys takes his drink and offers a smile. “You ever gonna say more than few words?”

“Mystery is what keeps us going, isn’t it?”

Jack stares at Rhys before breaking into a smile, shaking his head gently. “You’re a weird one, kiddo.”

Rhys watches Jack take out his phone, placing the tray on the table, and his heart jumps. Is he really about to get his number?

Then, Jack’s eyebrows furrow and he frowns. Rhys is about to ask before Jack looks back up at Rhys and shakes his head.

“This’ll have to wait another time, pumpkin. Gotta run.”

Rhys doesn’t even have time to object, because Jack is gone within seconds. He turns on his heel and practically books it out of the shop, as fast as he could without getting spilling his coffee or dropping his bag.

Rhys stares after him, and for the first time in a while, feels a void in his heart.

He sits back down and drums his fingers against his coffee cup, draining out the noise of his friends questioning him.

_

He eventually gets back into the real world, involving himself in discussions and laughing with his friends. Rhys ends up forgetting about the encounter, and before he knows it, a week had passed with no contact of Jack or even sign of the man. Rhys finds a void in his heart, but shrugs it off because you can't _fall in love_ within a day — or even feel a connection, for that matter.

He returns to Starbucks every other day, though, despite his low bank account that practically screams for Rhys to stop. Sasha ends up giving him a few discounts, muttering about how her boss wouldn't even notice anyway because he's never stuck around long enough. Rhys appreciates it, especially since Sasha knows his bank account is seriously suffering — and he'd get kicked out for loitering if he didn't get at least a drink.

On a particularly bad snowy day, Rhys finds himself staring out the window of the tiny little coffee shop on the corner of the street and watching as the light snowfall gets heavier and heavier. Some TVs around the shop begin to display news reports about the upcoming blizzard, and Rhys takes it as his cue to leave when Sasha begins to pull off her apron and announce that she's closing up. She doesn't wanna get caught in the storm either.

He finishes his drink and begins out the door, waving bye to Sasha and wishing her a safe trip home. Though blizzard warnings were only just beginning to appear, the weather is bad enough that Rhys could barely see in front of him and he begins to wish that he stayed inside instead of rushing out the door. He trudges through the snow with determination and a hand in front of his face in attempt to block out the snow.

Traffic going by makes Rhys jump, for bright lights will suddenly shine on him and then turn in the opposite direction when they notice his figure. He's pretty sure he's on the sidewalk, but the roads are covered and no one knows where they're going — Rhys can only pray that his black jacket is enough to stand out against the white weather.

Rhys is halfway there when a car drives by, much faster than what's safe and ends up hitting the curb. Slush from the curb goes everywhere as soon as the tire hits it, spraying Rhys head to toe. He ends up jumping from surprise and letting out a shriek as he scrambles to unzip his jacket and shrug it off his shoulders frantically, letting it drop into the snow as the cold air starts to stain his fingers with purple and blue.

The damage goes much further — water begins to drip off his hair and his fingers begin to freeze from the cold, blood turning to ice as the wet clothes begin to stick to his skin. Rhys sucks in a shaky breath, cursing his own stupidity for going out during a blizzard. He should’ve left earlier. Rhys bends down to snatch up his jacket with a low grumble of annoyance.

It’s then that another car drives by, slowing down when they notice Rhys on the sidewalk. His heart begins to race when the car begins driving at his speed, rolling down the window. Rhys turns his head to see who this could possibly be, none of his friends have cars and —

The face is all too familiar, and Rhys is sure he's hallucinating from the cold.

“Jack?” He mumbles. The man smiles.

“Hey, pumpkin. You alright?”

Rhys looks at his clothes, soaking and wet from the slush that the car from earlier threw up onto him. When his eyes meet Jack's, he slowly recognizes the look on his face as one he'd seen his friends give him many times before — when they were amused but attempting not to laugh. His lips press together firmly but the dimples in his cheeks scream _amused_ and his eyebrows raise at the scene before him.

Rhys' eyebrows press downwards as frustration of the embarrassing scene begins to tug at him, making him clench and release his fists.

"You think this is funny.”

“I think it’s funny that you went out during a blizzard. I could barely see ya, kiddo. You’re lucky your shirt underneath that is dark.” Jack replies, reaching over and opening the side door.

“Come on.”

“Seriously? We barely know each other. I’m not getting in a car with you.”

“Kiddo, I have much better things to do than kidnap stranger. You’re gonna freeze to death out here.”

Creeping up his arm and slowly reaching his shoulders before spreading like frost to his chest and stomach, the sweet embrace of the cold begins to dig itself and claim Rhys' body as its own. Snow falls onto his eyelashes and Rhys is sure if he doesn't move soon, they'll start to freeze there and he'll look like a popsicle. His dull purple lips pull back in a frown, because ultimately, Jack is right. Maybe he wouldn't necessarily die, but the risk of the snow getting so heavy that a car accidentally crashes into him lights a spark of anxiety in his chest.

“Straight to my place. Then we never talk about this again.” Rhys states, going towards the car. Jack laughs at that; it's hearty, making Rhys' lips twitch up though he fits it as best as he can.

“So we’re gonna be talking after this?”

Rhys' eye twitches at his slip up as he sits, carefully shifting his balled up jacket between his legs and rubbing his thighs in attempt to warm up. He eventually gives in to the comfort of the leather seat, leaning back and letting out a quiet sigh at the warmth that seems to spread throughout his back, welcoming it with dull joy.

"Shut up."

"Mouthy, aren't we?"

Rhys' mismatched eyes find Jack's, but he's the first to break eye contact after only seconds, a familiar feeling in his stomach making him clench his fists and stop moving his hands along his legs. "You wanna know my address or should I just go?" He snarks back, making Jack laugh,

Again. Rhys smiles and looks away as Jack replies. “You wanna try that again kiddo?”

“It’s a few blocks down. The apartment complex nearby, uh, the one on Baker Street.”

Jack doesn't reply to that, instead pulling back onto the road and continuing his drive easily, leaning back with confidence as the car fights its way through the snow. It's then that Rhys realizes that he's in an _expensive_ car, though he can't even tell what the brand is. Even if it isn't the best car in the world, it certainly smells expensive — don't ask Rhys how to describe that smell or why he knows, it's a simple feeling that drills its way into his brain and begins to scream. Jack definitely didn't work a minimum wage job like Rhys does.

So... Why would someone like Jack stop for someone like Rhys? It took him two paychecks to even pay for the soaking jacket between his legs, and he could barely pay for his rent every month. In fact, he's quite sure his rent was due yesterday and he simply told the landlord he'd get it to them by today.

Which is a lie. 

“So... Not to uh, offend you, but why’d you stop?”

"Normally I wouldn't have. I was actually about to speed up once I saw ya, but then... I realized it was you. Your hairstyle is _kinda_ unique, kid."

Rhys leans towards him as they get to a stop sign.

“I could be a serial killer.”

Jack smiles and doesn’t even look at him. “Are you?”

Rhys continues staring before seemingly giving up, sighing and leaning back. "I guess not."

Jack raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything about it as they near Rhys' apartment. The roads are progressively getting worse and cars begin to simply pull over and refuse to continue, making Rhys clench his fists from anxious habits.

They pull into the parking lot and Rhys scrambles to get his seat-belt off, moving so fast Jack barely has time to react before Rhys is up and out of the car. Hell, Jack was barely even parked when Rhys practically tucked and rolled. Jack gets out of the car afterwards and begins at a slower pace after Rhys.

"Hey, legs! Slow down!" He calls, and — that asshole, is there amusement in his voice?

Rhys is halfway to the building and his brain is screaming _faster_ , but hearing Jack call out makes him turn his head and press his feet down in an attempt to stop.

But the pavement beneath his feet is pure ice, and Rhys starts sliding instead. He lets out a shriek of surprise when he loses balance, arms beginning to flail wildly as he desperately tries to keep himself upright. Then, both of his feet disconnect from the ground and he falls backward, eyes closing as he expects to smash his head on the icy pavement beneath him.

Then a pair of peculiarly warm hands slide underneath his armpits and pull him upwards, saving him from the dangerous crash.

"Jesus, kiddo. You could've cracked your head open like an egg."

Rhys slowly opens his eyes to see Jack staring down at him, lips pushed together from mild worry.

"You—"

"Just saved your ass? Yeah." Jack snorts, and cautiously pulls Rhys upward until the man is back onto his feet. He places his hands on his shoulders until the other man steadies himself.

"Thanks, I guess."

"You guess? Pumpkin, you could've gotten seriously hurt there."

Rhys shifts to pick up his coat from the ground, and shoot Jack a look of annoyance. The man raises his hands in defeat.

"Alright, alright. I can see when I'm not welcome."

Rhys watches as the man begins to leave, shoving his hands in his pocket and Rhys is _not_ watching his ass as he parts. He looks back in front of him and tardily begins towards the building's entrance, only to stop halfway. If Rhys was scared to walk in this kind of weather, driving could be worse — though he's sure Jack's car might be best of the best, he can't trust Jack to drive home in this kind of weather. It isn't safe.

"Jack! Wait."

The man freezes, but doesn't turn. Rhys can practically see the shit-eating grin he has on his lips though his back is facing Rhys.

"Maybe... Maybe you should just come in for a bit, until the blizzard blows over. I'd... It'd kinda suck if you were to, y'know, die."

Jack turns to Rhys, and Rhys was definitely right about that grin.

"How do I know you're not a _serial killer_?"

"I don't know. Do I look like a serial killer?"

Jack's walking back to Rhys now, clapping a hand on his shoulder when he's close enough. "Nah, cupcake. You're about as skinny as a twig — could probably snap you over my knee if I wanted to."

Rhys follows Jack into the building.

"Uh, thanks? I guess?"

Jack laughs, stopping in his tracks to led Rhys take the lead once they're inside. "Wasn't a compliment, but good on you for taking it like a champ, kid."

Rhys glares at him. "Stop calling me that."

The shit-eating grin only gets wider.

"Stop calling you _what_?"

"Kid. Kiddo. I'm not — I'm an _adult._ "

"Then what do I call you?"

Their interactions, though odd and slightly annoying, makes Rhys feel _different_. Sure, he hasn't been in a proper relationship in a while now — two years to be exact — but that doesn't mean he's desperate. That doesn't mean Rhys is slowly smiling, tucking his head downwards as if he's trying to hide the glee from the man behind him.

"Rhys."

Jack's hands slide onto his back and the man leans close behind him, voice low and husky when he whispers into his ear.

"Alright, Rhysie."

Rhys almost shrieks, jumping away and sending water everywhere — like a wet dog drying off. He stumbles back and puts a hand over his heart in alarm, staring at Jack as if the man just shot a gun in his direction. The man raises his hands, eyes wide.

"What the fuck?"

Rhys stares, before a bubbly laugh begins to rise in his throat and he slowly begins to push wet hair out of his eyes. He begins to laugh, even doubling over as it increases in volume. He begins to wheeze after thirty seconds or so, and he hugs himself. "You totally got me, Jack — I'm sorry, I just didn't expect that."

"How frickin' high are you?" Jack mutters as Rhys slowly contains himself, wiping some water from his face.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever... Come on. I'm freezing."

Rhys leads them to the elevator, hitting the button for the third floor once Jack has gotten inside. He leans against the wall as the elevator begins to move up, and Jack glances over at him with raised eyebrows but says nothing.

Rhys suddenly remembers how Jack's car is worth more than what he makes in a year, and is suddenly feeling a little nauseous once the elevator doors open. He begins down the hallway and even begins to hesitate when he stops at his door, glancing nervously at Jack.

"What's the holdup, Rhysie? I'm _kinda_ freezing to death over here."

The grumble makes Rhys turn to face Jack completely, keys still in hand. Jack raises an eyebrow.

"Listen. This apartment — I know what it looks like. Sure, it's a little rundown and a little shitty, but uh... It isn't _disgusting_ or anything. I'm usually working and I don't often get visitors, so... This isn't really a home _home._ Just a place I crash at after work."

It takes Jack a few seconds to register that before he's frowning, hands slowly moving to place on his hips.

"You think I'm judging you on your friggin' apartment, cupcake?"

Shit.

"No, I just—" Rhys tries, but gets promptly cut off by Jack.

"Nah, nah, pumpkin. I'm not havin' any of this shit. If I didn't wanna see your shitty little apartment I wouldn't have accepted your offer to stay. If I thought your apartment was disgusting I definitely wouldn't have frickin stepped foot in it — you think I was born rich, kiddo?" Jack says, leaning in with every word and suddenly Rhys' back is to the door and he nervously puts his hands in front of him, eyes widened.

"I worked for what I have now. I've lived in a shitty little apartment too, Rhysie. I'm not judging ya' for it, especially when it feels like my frickin' nips are about to freeze off. Can you open the door now?"

Rhys glares at him, "I would if you'd let me go."

"I'm not pinning you against the door, pumpkin." Jack practically purrs.

Rhys huffs, and Jack gives in by taking a step back. Rhys stands up straight and moves to rub the back of his neck with his right hand before jangling his keys in the door and eventually getting it open.

After tugging off his shoes, Rhys moves to hang up his coat and when he returns to check on Jack, the man is holding a few papers in his hand. Rhys furrows his eyebrows in annoyance.

"Seriously? You're snooping? That's my work stuff, asshole."

Jack snickers and continues skimming through the papers. "You're a programmer, Rhysie?" He questions. 

Rhys hesitates. "Yeah. I work for Atlas, they—"

"I know what they do, cupcake. They're our rival company." Jack replies, and Rhys freezes in his tracks.

"You're — you — Hyperion?"

"Only the CEO." Jack looks up with a grin.

What the fuck?

Rhys stares at Jack, expecting him to burst out laughing and say he's just kidding, make fun of Rhys for falling for it. Instead, the shit-eating grin only gets wider as Rhys goes through the five stages of grief.

Atlas and Hyperion have been rival companies since Atlas got a huge increase in the stock market after releasing information on their robotics future, speaking about advanced prosthetic's they were creating. Hyperion immediately began to work on their own, trying to rival Atlas, and it succeeded. Shit hit the fan and every news outlet were talking about the newly formed rivalry and how they would be trying to outplay each other.

Rhys thought it was silly. Apparently, no one else agreed with that statement.

"Oh, God." Rhys groans, moving to collapse on the nearby sofa, "My boss is gonna kill me."

"You have some really good work here, cupcake. And you're living in this shithole?" Jack gestures to their surroundings.

"Yeah. Atlas focuses on giving bigger checks to engineers and—"

"You're programming their entire systems, Rhysie."

Rhys doesn't know when Jack decided to sit next to him, but he's suddenly very aware of how their shoulders brush. He lifts his head and looks at Jack.

"It's above minimum wage." He mutters.

Jack laughs at that. "Obviously not by much, judging by this place."

Rhys sits up, and holds out his hand. Jack transfers the papers from him to Rhys and the programmer quickly shuffles the papers back into their original state, pressing his lips together.

"I'm serious, kid — Rhys. That looked way better than what I've seen at Hyperion. You deserve to be living in a frickin' mansion with coding like that. You could take down Atlas from the _inside_ if you wanted."

Rhys rolls his eyes. "And?"

"And I think you should quit your job and come work for me instead."

"Very funny, Jack."

"I'm serious."

Rhys is abruptly aware of the way Jack looks at him — like an animal when it finds its prey, ready to strike at any given moment. He slowly places the papers down on the coffee table that sits less than a few feet away from them.

"I — I can't just quit my job, Jack. It has coverage, and—"

"And you think Hyperion doesn't? Kiddo, you'd be making thrice the amount of money you're making at friggin' _Atlas._ You could move out of this shitty little apartment in less than three paychecks, get a way better place to crash in." Jack leans toward Rhys with a grin.

"Whatd'ya say, kid?"

"Don't call me that." Rhys immediately quips, and stands from the sofa. "I'd have to think about it, Jack."

"Hey, I get it. I'm asking a lot of you right now, but I think it'll be worth it. I think you just have to take that chance, pumpkin. Shoot for the moon and even if you miss, stars, stars... Something." Jack gestures vaguely.

" _Very_ inspirational," Rhys rolls his eyes as he heads for the kitchen, "How do I know you're not just trying to gain the upper hand on Atlas?"

"What'dya mean? Of _course_ I'm trying to gain the upper-hand on Atlas, those guys suck friggin' donkey nuts. But if getting the upper-hand also means getting a cute code-monkey, then it seems like a good deal, huh?"

"Could just make me quit at Atlas and then not give me the job at Hyperion."

"I suppose I could. But then I wouldn't get to see your cute ass every day."

Rhys turns to find that Jack's followed him, and leans against the counter with crossed arms. "Are you gonna comment on my ass every time you see it?"

"Eh, probably not."

"Do you want a drink?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

The blizzard keeps up for a few more hours after that, but eventually dies down into a simple snowfall and the roads are safe enough to go out on. As they're being cleared, Rhys and Jack find themselves staring out the window of Rhys' apartment as Rhys recalls the many reasons why he hates the winter season. Though he's not even sure if Jack is listening or just staring at his ass, but he doesn't care either way cause it's taking him a while to wrap up his list.

Jack eventually bumps his shoulder gently and Rhys nearly spills coffee over his hand, making him glare at Jack. The man simply shrugs before speaking.

"I gotta go now, kid. Roads clear." He points out, and Rhys looks out the window again. So they are.

"Hah, yeah, I guess so." He places his cup down and walks to the door with Jack.

"Listen, cupcake — just consider my offer, will ya? I think you could make history at Hyperion. Way more history than you could make at Atlas."

Rhys hands Jack his grey overcoat and smiles at him. "Stay safe on your trip home, Jack."

"Trust me, Rhysie, I'm the best driver you'll ever meet. Not even a little bit of snow can stop me."

Rhys opens the door for him and gestures, making Jack laugh.

"Not even a kiss goodbye?"

"Get out, Jack." Rhys quips, and Jack salutes with two fingers before exiting the apartment.

"See you tomorrow, Rhysie!"

Rhys scrunches up his nose. "What?"

"Nothin'!" Jack calls out before stepping into the elevator, and waving to Rhys before the doors close. Rhys sighs and closes his apartment door.

In what universe does Jack think that Rhys will ever quit his job and come work for him just because he asked?

_

 _He must be insane_ , Rhys thinks as he goes towards his room, _quitting Atlas for Hyperion is a terrible decision. I'm better than that. And I just met him. So what makes him think that I'll ever work for him?_ Rhys stares up at the giant building before him. The buildings twist and turn into each other, creating four buildings in total. It connects in the center to create the illusion of an _H_ , from either behind or in front of the building. It's known for being one of the tallest skyscrapers in the world, and the biggest in town with an appalling one hundred and seventy floors. Much bigger than Atlas, at only seventy floors.

"This is a mistake," Rhys mutters, turning to leave, "and I'm better than this. Maybe Atlas will take me back if I just—"

A wave of late workers push past Rhys in a panic to get into work, and Rhys is being pushed through the large entrance doors of the Hyperion facility before he can even begin to fight back.

Bright yellows meets Rhys' eyes and twirls itself into patterns on walls, lacing up with black to create dimension and _not_ completely blind you. Workers push past one another in frantic rushes to get paperwork to their bosses and other people simply check in with the front desk before heading to the nearby elevators. Marble floors make an echo every time someone takes a step, but for some reason Rhys' seems louder than everyone else's as he heads for the desk feet away from him. He wasn't even aware he was taking steps until the desk lady looks at him expectantly.

"I'm uh, I'm here for Jack?" He attempts, and she raises her eyebrows. "Your CEO."

"He's on the top floor." She points to a nearby elevator. "You'll need this to access it."

She hands him a key that's attached to a necklace, and he slides it on over his head. 

"Uh, thanks." He looks at the key, labelled _VISITOR_ before turning and carrying his jelly-infested legs to the elevators.

They're crowded elevators, and Rhys assumes no one will look at him as he leans forward to hit _one seventy_. But as soon as it's pressed, all eyes are suddenly on him. He slinks into the back of the elevator and practically shoves his head into his jacket, trying to avoid eye contact with the workers in the elevator.

It takes a while, with stops every thirty seconds for people to get off at their designated stop. Rhys is eventually the last one in the elevator, and he sighs in relief once the last person has left and moves to fix his outfit for the day. The doors slide open not too long after, and Rhys is met with a long hallway and a large room in the center, with an area for what looks to be a break room and two workers on the opposite side.

Rhys makes his way up to the first worker, who sits at her desk and slowly shifts over peek at Rhys from behind her computer. Rhys' eyes flick down to the name tag.

_Maya._

"Hi, I'm uh, I'm here to see Jack?" He attempts, pushing his hands together nervously.

"What's your name?" Maya asks, already shifting back to the computer in front of her.

"Rhys."

"You have a meeting with him?" 

Her gaze makes Rhys scratch the back of his neck from anxiety.

"Not exactly." He admits, and she shakes her head.

"Well, Rhys, I'm sorry but no meeting means no seeing Jack. He's a busy man, and—"

Rhys leans forward nervously, placing his hands on the end of the desk. "Can you just call him, please? He'll know who I am."

Maya glances back at the girl who sits behind her, who simply shrugs. She sighs and picks up the phone. "If he kills me, you know who to blame." She states before hitting a button.

Jack seems to answer quickly, because Maya leans back and glances up at Rhys fairly fast. "Hey, Jack. I have someone here to see you." She states, making Rhys shift his weight nervously. "He says his name is Rhys."

The shift in her attitude is almost immediate, her eyes quickly going to Rhys and shifting from suspicious to curious. "I'll send him in right away, sir." She confirms before hanging up the phone, and gesturing to the door at the end of the hallway. "He's waiting."

"Uh, thanks."

Rhys turns and begins down the hallway, anxiety only getting worse as he approaches the large doors at the end. He pushes his hand through his hair and quickly brings out his phone to make sure he's looking alright before pushing through the doors.

"Well, I gotta say, Rhysie — I wasn't sure you were gonna show up."

Jack is sitting behind his desk, feet up as he lays back and spreads his arms to welcome Rhys to his office. The entire office is bigger than the entire Atlas building he used to work at, and he turns with wide eyes to examine his surroundings. Motivational posters of Jack himself hang on the walls, there's a lounging area and _is that a bar?_

"I — wow, you — wow." Rhys sputters, making Jack laugh.

It rings throughout the room and Rhys feels a little warm inside.

"I know, right? This is worth more than your entire apartment complex, cupcake."

Rhys nods nervously and he begins to walk to Jack's desk. The man removes his feet and leans forward, gesturing to a chair that sits across from it.

When Rhys sits, he practically sinks into the chair with a sigh at the embrace. The fluffy cushion welcomes him generously, and he tips his head back to look at the ceiling. "This is... Wow," He mutters, eyes on the skylight that sits above them.

Jack laughs. "That's not even all of it, kid. Watch."

At the press of a button, the entire ceiling begins to move and the entirety of it is glass. Rhys' mouth opens in awe.

"How much money do you _make?_ "

"Oh, you know. Enough to buy the world." Jack replies, the smug smile displayed on his face making Rhys turn his head back towards him. "But you're not here for me, Rhysie. You're here for yourself."

Rhys quickly sits up and nods, putting his hands together.

"I brought in every—"

Jack raises a hand and cuts him off. "No need. Just sign these and you're in."

He pushes some papers towards Rhys. His eyes widen.

"Just like that?" He questions, and Jack nods.

"Just like that."

Rhys pulls the chair closer to examine the papers. It's normal stuff, looking only a little different than the ones he signed when he signed up for Atlas. Don't sue if you get injured, Hyperion owns you, yada yada — Rhys takes a pen and scribbles his signature almost immediately.

"Well, Rhysie, when can you start?" Jack questions, and Rhys looks up.

"Uh... I'm not doing anything right now?"

"That's what I like to hear. I'll show you to your office." Jack begins to stand. Rhys stares.

"I... I have my own office?"

He gets to his feet once Jack is leaving, and quickly spins to follow. Jack laughs from in front of him.

"Jesus, kid. Atlas is _really_ gonna hurt now that you're gone."

Showing Rhys to his desk didn't take long. After explaining the basics of his job, Rhys seemed to catch on almost instantly and became an important member of the programming department in Hyperion. Though the hours were long, Rhys was finding himself falling into a neat schedule that gave him a nice paycheck. After almost a month of working with Hyperion, Rhys found himself on his shitty apartment sofa and browsing through apartment listings on his laptop, the price range twice what his original apartment had been.

So, life became good. And Jack never forgot about Rhys — visiting while Rhys worked wasn't uncommon, and he'd even drop by with an extra sweet French Vanilla for Rhys to sip on with chocolate sprinkles on top. Rhys had never really been able to afford the toppings, or the extra whip cream Jack ordered with it — but he never complained.

Though, it was a bit different when Jack showed up to Rhys' office with a beer in hand instead. Rhys scoffs when he sees it.

"It's too early for drinking, Jack. And you're at _work._ " He states, and Jack smirks as he leans against the desk.

"CEO privileges, Rhysie. You know the drill. Besides, it's not _early._ You stayed overtime for the third night in a row."

Rhys looks at the time and groans when it displays 9:43PM. He was supposed to be off at seven.

"Shit, I'm sorry Jack. You don't have to pay it — I just got caught up," He begins, and gets cut off.

"Nah ah ah, cupcake. You work overtime you get paid overtime, that's just how it is. I'm not upset."

Rhys looks up and watches as Jack raises the beer to his lips and take a swig. He raises an eyebrow, and Jack continues.

"I am, however, curious as to why you've been staying late."

Rhys leans back in his chair. "No reason. I just get... y'know. Caught up." He lies.

"I don't know how stupid you think I am, Rhysie, but it's _kiiinda_ insulting." Jack drawls, making Rhys sigh. "C'mon, Rhysie! It's Christmas Eve!"

"...Is it really?"

"What?" Jack stares, eyes wide. "You didn't know it's Christmas Eve?"

"No? I haven't been checking the calendar." Rhys says through gritted teeth, nose scrunched. "Does it matter?"

"Yes? It's Christmas?" Jack leans over the desk. "Shit, Rhys, I've got _shit_ family as well but my lil girl would never let me forget."

Rhys pinches the bridge of his nose, and though muffled, replies. "I've just been working a lot and I forgot, alright?"

"I'm not buying it." Jack puts the beer on the desk.

Rhys eyes it before turning his gaze back to Jack and sighing.

"I just really hate Christmas."

Jack's gaze softens almost immediately. "Me too, Rhysie. You got no one to spend it with?"

Rhys shakes his head. Vaughn and Yvette, though they would've invited Rhys, were too busy to even think about it. Vaughn had gone upstate to visit his parents and Yvette already had a plus-one, Sasha's sister Fiona. They bumped into each other at Starbucks while Fiona was visiting Sasha and ended up hitting it off, and thus, no invite to Christmas this year. Rhys was alone.

Not that Rhys isn't used to it. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"I don't need your pity, Jack."

"I'm not pitying you, kid—"

"How many times have I told you to call me Rhys?"

"I'm not pitying you, princess. I just... I can relate. I used to be alone on Christmas too. Doesn't mean you gotta work yourself to the bone." Jack spreads his hands. "I'll tell you what. You come to my house for Christmas."

"And...?"

"That's it. There's no catch."

Rhys stares, unsure of how to react. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously. I mean, I can't have a pretty piece of ass like you just working yourself to death on friggin' _Christmas._ "

Rhys watches as Jack nudges the bottle towards him, and he mistrustfully takes it and lifts it to his lips. He lowers it to speak before taking a drink. "Okay."

"Seriously?" Jack stares as Rhys puts the bottle down and swallows the liquid with a sour look on his face.

"Sure. I have nothing better to do, and if you're serious then why not?" Rhys shrugs, and moves to stand. "I should get going, though."

"Sure, of course." Jack shrugs, and moves to the office door. He opens it for Rhys, who quickly puts together some papers and grabs a folder before heading for the door. Jack quickly closes it upon seeing the work in his hands. "Seriously?"

"What?" Rhys glances down at the papers and then puts his lips together. "You're giving us the week off. I can catch up on some work at home, after Christmas." He states.

"Princess, days off are for _days off._ Not for at home work. You're seriously out-doing yourself here — God, how do you live?" Jack shakes his head.

"I kind of don't," Rhys says, moving to place the work back on his desk without fight, "I just exist."

After making sure Jack wasn't drunk and safe to drive, they part ways. Rhys leaves his work at the office and Jack promises to text him his address before Rhys begins his walk home. It won't take too long, but he regrets turning down Jack's offer to drive him home. The icy concrete underneath his feet is enough to remind him of when he nearly split his head open after him and Jack first met, but now Jack isn't here to save him.

Rhys takes a deep breath and continues through the piling snow, digging his heels into the ice with every step in attempt to prevent him from slipping.

The dark street makes his anxiety even worse, the pits of his stomach dragging down and twisting into unease every time he heard a scuffle in the alleyways he passed. His eyes were quick to dart to whatever made the noise and press his hand to his back pocket, where he pretends a defensive weapon lays but in reality all that's there is his wallet in one pocket and his phone in his other.

But maybe if he looks intimidating, they'll leave him alone.

A breath of ease falls from his parted lips when he sees his apartment complex in the distance, picking up his pace until he trudges through the doors and kicks the snow off his boots. The elevator trip to his place doesn't take long and after jangling his keys in the door for a few seconds, he's inside and tugging off his jacket.

A buzz from his phone makes him freeze and look down. Who would text him this late at night?

Rhys pries his phone from his pocket and it reveals the identity of the mysterious text, _Jack_ displayed on the phone with the message of an address underneath.

 **Jack:** _2pm don't be late princess_

The lack of punctuation in the text doesn't even make Rhys blink, used to it from Jack's constant pestering during the day.

 **Rhys:** _Wouldn't dream of it. See you then._  
**Jack:** _dont get 2 excited now ;)_

Rhys, ignoring the wink, turns off his phone and goes to his room. He plugs it and sets an alarm for nine before changing into pajamas and crawls into bed. He lets out a soft sigh as he stares at the ceiling of the dimly lit room, and turns his gaze to the window beside his bed. Ice creeps on the corners and condensation makes it hard to see out of, but Rhys can make out the thick snowflakes continuing to spill onto the ground below.

"Merry Christmas." He mutters to no one in particular, and his eyes drag down until he's asleep.

Two in the afternoon can't come soon enough, it seems. After dragging himself out of bed, Rhys takes a quick shower and pulls some clothes on. He's not too sure what to wear, and every time he glances at the clock and it seems to get an inch closer to two a jolt of anxiety goes through his body.

He ends up wearing a white collared shirt with a brown overcoat hanging loosely off his shoulders, and beige pants.

It's not Christmas-y at all. He loves it.

Mismatched brown eyes find his own in the mirror he peers into, and he presses his lips together and takes a deep breath.

"Don't fuck this up." He mutters as the clock hits one, and he moves to exit his apartment.

He holds a box of cookies in his arms as he trudges through the snowfall of the day, looking grumpy as per usual. People glance his way and then continue walking, probably rushing to see their families.

Rhys tries to ignore the fact he's not even seeing his own family and continues through the snowy sidewalk.

He knows he's in the right neighborhood when all the houses look like they would spit on Rhys as he walks by. Christmas decorations light up the entire neighborhood and some people went _extreme_ with it.

 _Rich people,_ Rhys thinks as he moves down the street, _taking everything seriously because they have the money for it._

Rhys finds himself staring at house matching the address on his phone. Of course it's decorated, just not to the extremes of the ones around it.

That isn't what makes it stand out, though. The house is huge, big enough to host a family of fifteen — a long driveway twists to the right and leads up to two large garage doors. Windows decorate the front of the house and stairs lead up to two large entrance doors, stained glass making it impossible to tell what's inside. Beside the entry doors, a staircase spirals up to a deck above. The second floor glows a dim gold from the windows, and glass fence panels decorate the edge of the deck. Christmas lights twirl around the trees in the yard, giving off a soft blue and red glow as he begins to push through the gate he stands in front of.

A frozen fountain nearby has sparkling lights spun around the column and makes Rhys feel even more nervous as he gets up the entry doors.

 _RING THE DOORBELL._ is hanging off the door, and Rhys' gaze slowly shifts to the doorbell sitting beside the doors.

"Here goes nothing." He mutters, and moves to press it.

He can faintly hear the shout of someone inside, and Rhys patiently waits until the door is opened by someone much, much tinier than Jack.

Rhys shifts his gaze to look down at them, and he immediately smiles. This must be the daughter Jack's mentioned.

"Well, hey there. Are you Angel?"

The ten year old stares up at Rhys before giving him a toothy grin. "Yeah! Dad, that man is here!" She turns and shouts into the house.

"Well, invite him inside! Don't make him freeze to death!" Jack shouts back, but Rhys can't even tell where he is. Angel shifts back to allow Rhys inside, and his eyes widen.

A staircase spirals up onto the second floor in front of the door, and Rhys shifts his attention to the left side of the house. Angel gestures for him to follow, and he does such, sure he'd get lost if he didn't. Dim yellow hexagons trace themselves onto the walls, an obvious reference to Hyperion, and dim gold accents it. Rhys begins to feel a bit faint as they walk through a living room, a brilliant Christmas tree in the corner of the room. Presents, opened, sit around the tree in piles. Pristine white couches sit around a flatscreen TV and fireplace, and a large black rug underneath ties it all together.

Rhys' glances up at the walls of the living room, where pictures of Jack and his family hang. A woman Rhys doesn't recognize, who he assumes is Angel's mother, is in all of the photos except the most recent ones taken.

His attention is taken again by Angel, who's tugging him into another room almost immediately.

The kitchen is white and gold, with yellow hexagons on the wall, matching the theme of the mansion. A dining room sits nearby, and Rhys' jaw drops at the amount of food on the table.

Jack is standing at the oven, wiping sweat from his brow. He laughs upon seeing Rhys' face.

"Shit, pumpkin. You look like a hot mess." He states, and Rhys' face begins to burn.

"Swear jar." Angel quips, moving to the fridge.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Rhys slowly looks at Jack with wide eyes. "You... Wow."

"Alright, princess. I know it's great and all, but you're starting to drool. Come on."

"I'm not drooling." Rhys replies, and closes his mouth. Jack snorts and moves to place a rug on the counter.

"Yeah, and— Angel." Jack cuts himself off when he spots his daughter. "There's food _right there._ Seriously, kid, are you starving? Go play with your toys or something. I didn't get em for free."

Angel closes the fridge and glares. 

"You might as well get them for free, you're rich!" She retorts.

Jack places his hands on his hips. " _We're_ rich. Let the adults have some alone time, kiddo."

"Well, my _teachers_ say I have the mental mindset of an adult, so technically—"

"Nuh uh uh. Technically _nothing._ Scram." Jack shoos her, and Angel eventually gives, leaving the kitchen.

"You... Uh. Is she the only one here?" Rhys asks when she's gone, and Jack nods as he walks over.

"Right now, yeah. I got a few friends comin'. Nisha, Wilhelm, Timothy, Athena. Athena might drag Janey along, if Timothy arrives he'll probably bring Aurelia... Friends close enough to be considered family." Jack shrugs and moves past Rhys. Rhys turns to watch him.

"I uh... Yeah, sounds good. I don't know any of them." He states, and Jack laughs. Rhys stares at the back of his head with nervous eyes.

"Don't worry about it, kid. They won't eat you. Sure, Nish might hit on ya but she's harmless." He states with a shrug, "They all are. I mean, they can all snap you like a _twig_ but... harmless. I wouldn't have invited you if I didn't think they wouldn't like you, princess."

Rhys slowly smiles.

"Okay. I, uh, I brought snacks." He shoves the box of cookies toward Jack, who laughs upon seeing them but takes them and moves to place them on a nearby counter.

"I knew you'd be good for something, Rhysie."

Just as Jack says, when the rest of the crew arrive, everyone gets along. Wilhelm intimidates Rhys to the point of where he practically can't speak around him, so conversation between the two of them is useless. The dinner goes by smoothly, Rhys learns way more about Jack then he wanted — mostly about his past relationship with Nisha, but Nisha kept getting interrupted by Angel, gagging to remind her of TMI.

There's a bit of teasing for how scrawny Rhys is, and how he seems to be Jack's new _boy toy_ but the evening goes by quicker than expected. Before Rhys realizes it, people are beginning to trickle out the door and thank Jack for invitations.

Rhys begins to grab his overcoat when it starts getting too dark for comfort.

"I should really get going. I don't wanna walk with the fear of getting stabbed." He jokes, and Jack raises a brow.

"It's already pretty dark, princess." He points out, making Rhys glance out the window.

"Yeah, but... Now is better than later."

"Let me drive you." Jack picks up his coat from a nearby chair and jangles his keys. Rhys blinks.

"Uh, you really don't have to. You've done enough, Jack."

"Let it be a Christmas present, Rhys. Come on."

Rhys smiles. "You've really already given me enough. Dinner was _more than_ enough."

"Come on, pumpkin." Jack places a hand on his shoulder and momentarily turns to call out, "Nish, make sure Angel doesn't get into trouble. I'll be back in a minute."

"Why isn't it me who gets put in charge? I'm your _brother!_ " Timothy calls, and Jack rolls his eyes.

"Cause you can't be disciplinary for the life of you! See you in a bit."

Jack gestures to the door that leads to the garage and Rhys sighs, knowing it's useless to argue. He follows Jack through and follows to his car of choice.

The drive back to Rhys' place is quiet besides from when Rhys reminds Jack of where he lives, and the man puts on a radio station and hums for most of the drive. Rhys finds peace in the comfortable silence, eyes starting to feel heavy as he watches the snow fall down.

For the first time in his life, Rhys felt like he didn't totally hate Christmas.

It's too soon when the car pulls into the apartment parking lot, and he moves to unbuckle himself. Jack's hand finds his, stopping him short.

"Rhys."

He looks up to find Jack's eyes. "Yeah?"

Jack offers a smile. "Thank you for coming out."

"It was really nice of you to invite me, Jack. You don't really need to thank me. It should be me thanking you."

"You had a good time?"

Rhys doesn't even hesitate. "It was the best Christmas I've had in years."

"Oh."

There's a few beats of silence, and Rhys thinks he's fucked up until Jack leans forward and connects their lips.

It takes a few seconds to register, but he moves to cup the side of Jack's face and pull him closer. His seatbelt stops him halfway and Rhys snorts when Jack is abruptly pulled back. The man tugs at his seatbelt and frowns.

"Cockblocker," He mutters, before looking back at Rhys, "That was okay?"

"Yeah." Rhys confirms, leaning back. "It was more than okay."

They stare, and then Jack speaks up again. "Come out for New Years."

His eyes widen. "Really?"

"Yeah. Really. I'll text you the details — it's a party this time. For uh, the big timers."

Rhys smiles. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Jack."

" _Perfect._ " Jack purrs, and Rhys unbuckles from the car.

"I'll see you then." He says, and opens the door. He's halfway out when Jack speaks again.

"Rhys?"

Rhys gets out completely before turning to look at Jack. "Yeah?"

There's another beat of silence, and Jack grips his wheel before finally managing to get it out.

"Don't come as a friend."

His heart drops. It was simply too good to be true; someone such as Jack, with someone such as Rhys? The desperate beating of hearts as two lovers cling to one another and beg for them to stay committed to them, and only them was something Rhys understands Jack could most likely not even begin to consider — the man is simply too busy with work. Thus, Rhys shifts in his spot and glances towards his apartment complex.

The cold is beginning to sting but Rhys is definitely not running this time. "Oh. A colleague?"

"My boyfriend."

Alright, so maybe Rhys is dramatic and jumps to conclusions a little too fast.

"Is that so? How do you know I'm not a serial killer?"

Jack looks over and mirrors his smile. "Are you?"

"I guess not." Rhys replies, and Jack shrugs.

"Then it's settled." 

"I guess it is."

Rhys has never been fond of this kind of weather. But as he watches Jack pull out of the apartment parking lot, snow falling around him and beginning to melt on his clothes, hair, dripping onto his face and slowly turning his cheeks pink, Rhys decides that this weather is alright.

This weather is alright if it gets him closer to Jack.


End file.
